


More Stories than the Devil has Sinners

by DevinBourdain



Series: Manifest Destinies [7]
Category: Star Trek, Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Western, Army, Character Death, Emotional Baggage, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Family, Family Drama, Guns, Hurt/Comfort, Tragedy, Western, aliens as first nations tribes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-19
Updated: 2017-10-21
Packaged: 2019-01-19 23:52:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 15,333
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12420777
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DevinBourdain/pseuds/DevinBourdain
Summary: Some of the defining moments of Pike's life that lead him to joining outlaw Jim Kirk. Character origin story for Western Enterprises Series. Western AU.Christopher Parnell Pike, son of a blacksmith, is born of fire and iron.  His whole life is laid out before him: hone his skills as a blacksmith, marry a good woman, settle down and ensure future strapping boys to continue the family legacy. It's a good life, an honest life, and Chris can find no fault in it. Becoming his parents seems like a reasonable and safe trajectory.At eight years old the first objection to his carefully foretold existence literally falls out of the sky and lands on him. The force and weight sends him tumbling to the ground. When he finally gets to his feet he realizes it's not a something that almost crushed him but a someone. A someone with blond hair and blue eyes that's sitting on the ground with a bemused smirk on his face.The boy offers his hand. "George Kirk."Chris takes his hand and gives it a firm shake. "Christopher Pike."





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: The Star Trek characters are not mine, just borrowed for this story.  
> Warnings: language and violence and references to sex  
> Comments are always welcome and appreciated

Christopher Parnell Pike, son of a blacksmith, is born of fire and iron. His father is strong, unyielding iron like the metal he and his family have dedicated their souls to molding and shaping, while his mother is a retired school teacher with a passion and soul fiery enough to warm and shape his father's heart. The fourth of what will be eight children, Chris is the oldest by typical frontier tragedy by the time he's six. His whole life is laid out before him: hone his skills as a blacksmith, marry a good woman, settle down and ensure future strapping boys to continue the family legacy. It's a good life, an honest life, and Chris can find no fault in it. He's raised in an ordinary frontier town in an unremarkable part of the territory. Becoming his parents seems like a reasonable and safe trajectory.

He learns to forge metal almost the same time he can walk and spends his days outside of school, helping his father in the shop. The only taste of the wild frontier that looms just over the hills in the distance that he gets is in the stories travellers through town see fit to share with a young hand as they wait for their horses to be re-shoed. The hills, he decides, keep his perfectly mundane future pristine and untainted from a land that's painted with blood, violence and uncertainty. His parents fell in love back East in the hustle and bustle of the big cities on the coast and haven't regretted settling here. He will be happy here too.

At eight years old the first objection to his carefully foretold existence literally falls out of the sky and lands on him. The force and weight sends him tumbling to the ground and he has to fight to crawl out from whatever has descended from upon high. When he finally gets to his feet and dusts the dirt off his new trousers, which his mother will tan his hide for getting dirty already, he realizes it's not a something that almost crushed him but a someone. A someone with blond hair and blue eyes that's sitting on the ground with a bemused smirk on his face.

As if breaking someone's fall wasn't irritating enough the complete lack of an apology while the boy laughs is. His mother isn't going to believe that some boy fell from above as an excuse to spare him from the fallout of ruining his clothes. "What's so funny?" demands Chris.

The boy gets to his feet. "Not funny... fun. That was fun," he says looking up at the tall tree with awe and desire, before moving towards the base and reaching for a sturdy branch.

Chris follows his line of sight up the impressively high tree that once was probably the crown jewel of the forest but like everything has now succumb to age and rot and is at the mercy of the next strong wind that decides to flex its muscles. "Why would you climb a tree you'd probably fall out of?" he asks as the boy begins to pull himself up to the next branch. Really, it's not a probable scenario at this point; it already happened once and is probably a case of lightening striking twice.

"Because it's there," says the boy like it's the most obvious answer in the universe.

Chris has never thought about trees existing for the sole purpose of his climbing them. Fear of the fall has always kept his feet firmly on the ground, like the hills in the distance keeping him in town and on track to be the town blacksmith when he grows up. He's never had any desire to see what's at the top. "You could get hurt," reminds Chris, and really at this point, he could get hurt if the tree bows to gravity and dumps the boy again.

"Then it's rather fortuitous that I landed on you the first time," calls the boy over his shoulder as he continues on his climb undeterred. "Besides, trees are meant to be climbed, lakes swam and mountains traversed. And I intend to do them all."

Chris crosses his arms and frowns. Nothing could possibly be worth all that trouble; could it? The boy says it with such conviction that it seems like heaven can only be found at the tops of trees and mountains and the middle of lakes where the veil between life and death is the thinnest. It's the complete opposite of what his parents talk about around the dinner table as they give thanks for the simple things, the safe things in their lives.

"Are you coming?" calls the boy. "The view is spectacular."

Chris shakes his head. It's a foolhardy idea that he doesn't need to be a part of. Besides, how would he explain a broken arm on top of ruining his new clothes? The view is perfectly fine from down here. "Fools rush in where angels fear to tread," he calls after the boy.

"Nothing ventured, nothing gained," comes the reply, and Chris steps back startled as the boy's face appears by his own as he swings from a low hanging branch by his legs. He looks at Chris seriously. "You're not chicken are you?"

Like some sort of curse, the taunt seems to remove what little sense Chris was blessed with as he throws good judgement to wind and grabs the first branch within reach. He maybe a lot of things but no one calls him chicken and certainly not some kid he's never met before the blond oaf came tumbling out of the tree he's climbing again.

Chris is at the top before realization hits him and common sense reasserts itself, but by then it's too late; the view steals him breath away. He can see for forever in all directions and what lies beyond the hills that have defined his world doesn't look so scary from up there.

"I told you," says the boy before offering his hand. "George Kirk."

Chris takes his hand and gives it a firm shake. "Christopher Pike."

* * *

George Kirk is a menace, or so Chris's mother reminds him constantly. But she must be able to see through the shenanigans and bravado to George's pristine soul because she never tells Chris he can't be friends with George, no matter what the pair get into. Chris thinks it's mostly the devil may care smile, heart of gold and those baby blues that make people fail to see the pointy horns under Kirk's halo. Kirk's clout seems to extend to Chris too by virtue of association not that Chris isn't the honest, hard working, god fearing boy his parents raised him to be. Either way, they're thick as thieves; an inseparable duo the likes of Riverside has ever seen.

George is a dreamer and it's Chris's job to keep both their feet on the ground. The job becomes infinitely more difficult the older they get, but Chris always manages to temper George's dangerous impulses into something that won't get them killed outright. George becomes more insistent as they get closer to stepping out on their own in the world, while Chris still enjoys the safety of his parent's dream. Beyond the hills looks interesting but he's choosing the life of a blacksmith now instead of it being the only option. Trust George to turn that notion on its head at the first opportunity.

Their cozy little hamlet isn't immune to what is shaping the world beyond the hills. War is on the horizon. The savages that once inhabited the lands have decided to push back against the peaceful settlers, spilling blood across the earth. Eventually the army comes calling with its enticing sales pitch that claims several young men in Riverside.

Chris has to admit the sentiment isn't lost on him but it isn't the future that's been plan for him so he only half listens when George drags him along to listen to the recruiter dangle the carrot of adventure and heroism before them. It's a noble cause, just not one Chris wants to be entangled with.

They grab a drink at the saloon after. Chris would be lying if said the novelty of being old enough to hang out in the saloon and drink wasn't still exciting. "So I found out the blond is Masters's niece. She's been giving him a hand around the store and we got to talking. I think I'll ask if I can escort her to the dance on Friday," Chris rattles on.

"You should do that," breaths George without feeling.

Chris looks up from his glass to realize George has been staring at the soldiers sitting around the table in the back as opposed to listening to his plans to woo the blond angel with the perfect smile that captured his heart months ago.

"I think I'm going to join," declares George. His thumb taps nervously against his glass like it's a do or die moment.

"What? The army?" asks Chris somewhat surprised. "You got a death wish or something?"

George laughs. "I think I could make a difference."

Chris retorts, "You could also make an excellent pin cushion for some savage's arrows." It's definitely the most hazardous idea George has cooked up yet. There's an endless barrage of dangers attached with this notion that Chris couldn't even hope to think of let alone protect his friend from.

"We should do it," insists George. It's the ultimate adventure waiting for them and they'd be perfect for it; his fearlessness tempered by Chris's intellect, they'll be unstoppable.

"Now there's a we?" Chris certainly doesn't have any designs on joining the army. And he doesn't remember agreeing to do something this reckless.

"Nothing happens in this town. This is our chance to get out and see the world. Make a difference," says George with inspiration in his eyes like he can see the future paved in gold before him.

Chris is almost a little envious of that conviction, but the truth is, this whole land is settled with the broken dreams of people who thought there was something brighter and better out there. "Nothing out there that you don't already have here. Mr Wilkenson says you can have the lead hand job anytime you want. And he pays enough that you'll have enough to buy your own spread in no time. I could even see if Masters has another niece," tries Chris. There's safety in this town and he owes it to his friend to convince him to stay before he does something he'll regret.

George deflates a little. "Maybe you're right."

Chris takes another sip of his drink. "Of course I'm right. A man doesn't need to go out and court death."

"You should go ask that girl to the dance," insists George, with a smile that doesn't quite reach his eyes.

"Now?"

"The dance is a day away. You don't want someone else sweeping her off her feet, now do you?"

Chris can't help the smile that breaks out on his face. "I'll do it then," he declares getting to his feet. It's a major step towards his future happiness. George claps him on the shoulder with a "that's great Chris," and with crisis averted, Pike heads from the saloon to the general store to ask the fair maiden for the privilege of her company Friday night. Things are coming together for both of them.

The dance is a success, his date seems as infatuated with Chris as he is with her and it's not hard to push the nagging sensation at George's absence from his mind as he escorts her home on their moonlit walk along the quiet banks of the river.

His happiness is interrupted the next morning as his mother hands him a letter. He gets through about half of it before crumpling it into a ball and dropping it on the ground. He can't stomach to read George's apologies for leaving and half hearted reassurances that everything will be alright. The damn idiot up and joined the army on his quest for adventure. Anger runs through Chris on the heels of betrayal and fear. The pair have been inseparable since eight years old and now George has just taken off without him. Not that Chris wanted to go but the sting of betrayal lives on the edge of being so easy to leave behind. Chris is the voice of reason that's kept George's foolhardy and dangerous ideas in check and without him, just how long is George going to survive?

* * *

George sends letters whenever he can and it ease some of Chris's tension getting monthly confirmation that George hasn't done something monumentally stupid. Between letters he has his relationship to distract him and taking on a large portion of the work for his father. Everything is coming together how he pictured it. He's found the girl he's going to spend the rest of his life with and if George would just get home from playing hero unharmed, everything would be perfect.

The tide of war turns quite quickly. It isn't long before a beaten and worn regiment is marching on town to seek refuge while they tend to their wounded and get supplies. Chris puts in long hours re-shoeing their horse and listens to their stories while they wait for him to finish. Hearing George's regiment come up sends a spike of fear through his soul. He has to interrogate seven soldiers to get the whole story that leaves him shaken.

He finds the highest ranking officer he can and demands answers. No one can say for certain if George is alive or not, just that those that did survive the engagement were taken captive and the Romulans are not known for letting prisoners go. The Captain has no intention of rescuing the prisoners because the likelihood is they'll be dead before reinforcements can come and give the regiment favorable odds.

* * *

"So, what? You're going to join, Chris?"

Pike doesn't stop packing. He has no intention of joining but someone has to do something. "I just can't leave him there Nona. Someone has to do something."

She puts her hand over his to still his movements. "And that someone has to be you?" she asks.

This is exactly what he tried to warn George about but he can't stand by and do nothing while George's life is on the line. "I'm the only one that's even remotely been able to keep his feet on the ground. And it looks like I'm the only one that's dead set on seeing him come home."

He's not a soldier but he does have an idea that the Captain seems to think they have a chance of pulling off. It's one job, to save his friend. He'll be there and back before anyone notices he's left. It's just a small detour in his perfect plan; he'll save George's ass and get back on track. He looks Nona in the eye and asks, "You'll wait for me?"

He's going to marry that girl if she'll have him, but he has no delusion that things can change in the time he's gone.

She hugs him tightly and whispers, "I love you," in his ear.

They make love that night and in the morning Chris sets off with a lock of her hair and best memory of his life.

* * *

Thankfully George is alive and even more mercifully Pike's rescue plan works. Those are the only things that go right. After the rescue they get pinned down in a siege for three weeks until the nearest regiment comes with enough firepower and men to run the Romulans off. Chris has every intention of dragging George back home to Riverside, with one compelling speech but falls victim to George's campaign to stay. He doesn't know when he gets swept up in the rush of saving lives or the thrill of adventure but when it comes time to leave, Chris finds himself signing up. He justifies it to himself when he looks in the mirror as George needing someone to look after his ass but like the tree, once he got a taste of the view, it was hard to not seek it out on his own.

Pike is surprisingly good at being a soldier and all of his commanding officers are impressed with his ingenuity and leadership. Along with Kirk they climb the ranks quickly and have a reputation as being unstoppable. As good as Chris is, George is brilliant, taking to it like a duck to water. His friend shines here in a way he never did back home.

Pike keeps in touch with Nona but as things get busy the letters get spaced further and further apart. When she has to leave Riverside to take her mother south to help with her tuberculosis she tells Chris to come find her when the war is done and he can stay in one place. The thought of one day marrying the blond firecracker is the only thing that drives Chris to keep going when things get bad and the thing he dreams about on peaceful nights.

They get three successful years boasting the fewest casualties and most victories before someone gets a lucky shot and Chris has to save George again. He manages to drag George off the battle field but the surgeon insists it will take months for George's arm to heal enough for him to fight again. George is sullen at the news but Chris is just thankful he's alive.

At Chris's insistence, George heads home to recover. It's a much needed break that his friend deserves. They send letters, Pike's about the men and completed missions and George complaining about the monotony of Riverside life until he meets a girl that captures his interest. Soon, all of George's letters revolve around love and Chris finds he doesn't need George to say it but he isn't coming back to the army. Pike's happy for his friend but misses him dearly. Unlike last time George left without Chris, Chris doesn't feel like he's been left behind. He love what he does and the thought of going back home to be a blacksmith is daunting. There won't always be wars to fight so he's going to soak up as much of this as he can while he can.

It's ironic, when Pike does get the letter of George's intention to marry that it's Pike out on the adventure and Kirk settling down to have a family.

* * *

It isn't great news that brings Lieutenant Pike back to Riverside. The army has agreed to give him a month to tend to family business in the wake of his father's death. While it's a solemn occasion, it will give Chris the chance to meet the woman that's tamed George Kirk.

George comes to the funeral without his beau citing her feeling faint the last couple of days and deciding it was better for her to stay home than ride into town for services. Chris doesn't mind; it gives him a chance to listen to George talk about her as they ride out to his homestead. All the talk about a double wedding when Chris goes and retrieves his love of his life and the future in Riverside warms Pike's heart. He doesn't think she's going to live up to the pedestal George has put her on.

They enter the home to the delicious smell of dinner floating in the air. It takes George seven steps to get from the door to the kitchen to wrap his arms around his future wife; every inch the loving and devoted couple. "Chris, I'd like you to meet Winona," introduces George.

Chris's heart comes to a stop as the blond turns around. He knows for a fact that Winona exceeds the pedestal George has placed her on because he fell hard and fast for her too. He stands there, unable to move. Fortunately before George can notice anything amiss, the cattle outside start making a fuss and George excuses himself to check it out and see if the troublesome coyote is back.

It's just him and Winona in the kitchen and the silence stretches on forever. Finally his lips connect with the message his brain is sending and he mutters, "Nona?" He knows it's her, having memorized every inch of her face every time they were together. He's desperately hoping for some mistake.

"Chris," she echoes, just as horrified. "You're George's best friend?"

She looks equal parts broken and torn and he can emphasis with that. What they had was love, true and hot passion, or so he had believed. "I thought you were going to wait?" he says dumbly, because when he pictured seeing the girl of his dreams again it wasn't in his best friend's house as his George's future wife. His world is crashing down around him and he's looking for Winona to say something that's going to save him.

Winona looks at the door panicked. In all their correspondence and conversations none of them connected Nona as Winona especially since she was supposed to have left Riverside to see to her mother. And Chris and George are common enough names that she never connected them either. There are four other people named Chris living in Riverside at this very moment. "You can't tell him," bursts out of her mouth.

She fell hard for Chris but came to the realization that she would be second to the army and waiting for forever had little appeal. Letting go was the hardest thing she had to do and there's a part of her that wants to run over and embrace Chris, picking up where they left off but George is a good man. And she loves him, she really does. George is a good decent man and if either one says anything they both know he'll gladly step out of the way, because Kirk is decent and selfless like that and that's what swept Winona off her feet in the first place. Things are more complicated than that.

Chris fights to hold back the tears stinging his eyes. For the first time in his life, he's prepared to fight George for something if he gets the tiniest inclination he might win. "Do you love him?" he asks, unsure what answer he hopes to get.

A small smile shapes Winona's lips. "I do."

He can recognize love when he sees it. He wore the same stupid smile on his face when he told George he was thinking about asking her to the fall dance. "More than you ever loved me?" The world hinges on the next few words.

"It's more complicated than that."

Chris is moving before he can think better of it, wrapping his arms around Nona and engaging in a passionate kiss that could burn the house down. She kisses back but pulls away after a moment.

"We can't," says Winona, desperate and aching. She's dreamed of this moment every day her and Chris were apart but all that disappeared when a wounded soldier accidently knocked over a display in her uncle's store and insisted, even though it must have hurt like hell that he clean up the mess and not her.

"You have two men who asked for your hand in marriage. It's just a question of who you love more. Tell me it's me and I'll leave the army. We'll buy a piece of land and have a whole litter of children running around, just like you wanted." Chris has never meant anything more in his life.

A single tear rolls down Winona's cheek. "I'm pregnant."

The two simple words threaten to topple mountains. Chris has lost the battle for Winona's affection when he didn't even know the war was taking place.

"I'm going to marry George and we're going to be happy. We are happy. We're in love and starting a family."

She sounds apologetic and says everything he'd want from the woman marrying his best friend but he doesn't actually hear much of what she says beyond choosing George over him; the dying shriek of his heart is drowning out all sound.

"Isn't she a dream?" asks George as he comes back inside, looking like a love sick fool.

"The greatest dream a man can dream," agrees Chris as they sit down to dinner.

Pike cuts his trip short and heads back to his regiment. His history with Nona, rather Winona, is the biggest secret he's ever kept from George and while he desperately wants to tell someone his tale of woe, he isn't going to destroy his friend's happiness for something that will never be. He avoids home now. It's one thing to wish Winona and George happiness, it's another to have it in his face.

They exchange letters constantly. It isn't long before Chris receives the news that George is the proud father of George Samuel Kirk or Sam of which they hope Chris will be the godfather. He accepts, because it's an honor and keep his bitterness that it should be his life, buried. Soon the Kirk's are announcing the arrival of James Tiberius Kirk and Chris has two god sons. They are the most perfect children in the world and while they can't be his, Chris decides he's happy enough being their god father.

The perfect family is heading to Federation City where George is going to be deputy. Winona seems proud, boasting it won't be long before George makes sheriff.

Chris doesn't think anything of it when the mail rider hands him a neatly folded letter with Winona's script across the front. George often dictates his letter to Winona, especially if it's news concerning both of them. The letters make him smile; no doubt the announcement of the impending arrival of another mini George on the horizon. Kirk always wanted a litter of kids underfoot to make up for the small family he grew up in.

Opening the letter, his smile fades and it slips from his fingers, falling to the dirt like a feather on a gentle breeze.

* * *

It's two weeks before things calm down enough that his superior can give him leave.

* * *

Riding down the long dirt trail to the Kirk homestead, Chris can't help but notice it looks exactly the same. It's a sobering thought that one of the greatest lights in this universe can be snuffed out and yet the world appears untarnished for its loss. The moment he steps into the house Winona wraps her arms around him like she'll never let go, and he can't help but think the last time he was held that tightly was by her in better circumstances. While Winona tries to hide her anguish, it's written clearly on the faces of her children. They're lost and broken but perhaps none more than young James whose blue eyes are so sharp they're like glass shards cutting into Chris's soul.

He has to piece the details together from talking with people in town and every new fact he learns is a knife in his heart. Chris not only wasn't there to save his friend but he's spectacularly failed at keeping his godchildren safe from the evils of the world. Sam was spared witnessing George's final moments but James had a front row seat for every agonizing minute.

At the funeral, Jim grabs a hold of Chris's hand and refuses to let go for two whole days. Chris spends most of that time wiping away tears and checking shadows for bandits. He manages to get them packed up and escorts them on the wagon ride to Riverside. None of them look remorseful at leaving Federation City.

Winona's a ghost, rarely having enough energy to get out of bed. Sam is mostly angry; at his father for dying or the world for letting him die, it's hard to tell but he spends most of his time in the loft in the barn. James just seems lost; his hero is gone and the other pieces of his life have fallen away, trapped in their own despair.

Jim follows him around like a lost duck as Chris spends the day doing all the chores that make the farm run. It's the picture of heaven but it's false. This isn't his home and these aren't his sons. He tries to keep that in perspective as makes arrangements to hire trustworthy farmhands to run things when he eventually goes back to the army. There's far too much here for Winona to manage on her own and raise two young boys. She's going to need help since she's decided to leave the violence of Federation City behind them and start again on the Kirk family homestead in Riverside. At least here, Chris knows they'll be safe.

Every day that passes the notion of leaving gets harder and harder. Sam and Jim are so young and there's so much to teach them if they're going to grow up and be the men George would have shaped them into. Every night Chris spends his time holding Winona as she cries her heart out. She refuses to get out of bed and though the boys don't know it, she refuses to see them. Chris is starting to fear that Nero's bullet killed both George and Winona at the same time. He can't leave this once perfect family in shambles and uses that to justify staying another day and another.

He's showing Jim how to fix a broken fence post one afternoon, anything to keep the kid busy so he doesn't drown in despair, when the sunlight catches him just right and Chris swears he's looking at George when they were boys. He's paying more attention to Jim's face than the hammer he should be teaching the boy to wield when it slips and crashes into Pike's hand, hard. A string of expletives rushes out of his mouth as he covers his hand to try and stop the bleeding. Jim panics and bolts before Chris can pull himself together enough to stop him.

Chris heads back to the farm house to get his hand bandaged and hopes the kid ran home. Jim's not there but Winona is. It's the first time she's come out of her room since they arrived and she doesn't hesitate to use her gentle touch to patch Chris up.

"I don't know what to do without him," she whispers as she tied the bandage ends together. "He was my whole world and now he's gone."

Chris holds her hands tightly and looks her straight in the eye. "You're going to be alright," he assures her, because if it's the last thing he does, he's going to make sure they are.

Jim still isn't home by dinner and Chris sets out to find the boy. It wasn't his intention to scare him but both kids are so fragile since coming to Riverside it doesn't take much to spook either. He finds Jim sitting along the banks of George's old fishing hole. "Are you going to stay out here all night? It gets pretty cold."

Jim goes ramrod straight and stares at Chris like a spooked dear. His bottom lip wobbles and Chris closes the distance in three strides, wrapping the small boy in his arms. "It's okay."

"But your hand," he sobs.

"Is fine. It will be good as new in a couple of days. No harm done."

"Really?" asks Jim, squirming so he can get a look at the hand in question.

"Really," insists Chris.

"I'm not in trouble?" Jim asks, hopefully.

"No," he assures. "Let's go home, son. Your mother has dinner waiting." The endearment slips out and he holds his breath to see if Jim will have an adverse reaction. He meant it as an endearment and nothing more, certainly not an indication of replacing George he fears the boy might mistake it for. Whatever Jim thinks, he doesn't let Chris in on it, just follows him back home.

A full year goes by and the Kirk family begins to seem like their old selves. The boys are happy and carefree as they can be and Winona has come out of her depression, embracing family life and the comfort of her children. It's picture perfect domestic bliss and if Chris isn't careful he'll get sucked into a life that's not his. He should be getting back to his life but he can't bear the thought of leaving anymore.

* * *

It's a cold winter's night and Chris is bringing in the last load of fire wood for the night while Winona's doing dishes. The boys are fast asleep and the house is cozy and quiet. He piles the logs next to the stove and when he turns around Winona is standing there, so close he can feel the heat from her body. Before he can make sense of what's happening, she's kissing him like her life depends upon it. It's everything Chris has ever wanted and it takes more strength then he thought he had to pull away. "What are you doing?" he asks.

"I'd thought it would be obvious. You've taken care of me and the boys..."

Chris gently pulls her hands away from his face. "I didn't do it for this," he insists, because it's the truth. This is a life he always dreamed of but it's just that, a dream and it doesn't truly belong to him. The price for it is far more than he was ever willing to pay.

"But this is what you always wanted," corrects Winona, sternly.

"What about George?"

"He's not here anymore," she snaps with a bitterness that seems to run in the family when discussing George's untimely absence.

As much as Chris did want this, he doesn't want to be the backup option or steal a family from his friend's blessed memory. He was willing to fight for Winona before she said 'I do' but he takes those vows seriously, even if they weren't his own. "How's this going to work, Winona? You didn't wait for me the first time I left for the army, are you saying you'll wait this time?" It's the first time he's voiced his intention to return to military life out loud. It was easier to stay and do right by George's family when he believed there was no chance with Winona. Now, knowing how easy it would be to replace George, he can't bear the thought.

"You're leaving again?" hisses Winona, turning to ice.

"Yes," Chris whispers. God help him, he'll walk away if it's what's best for them.

Winona turns sharply. "You should leave now then. Cause I'm not going to love another man who's aiming to end up in a pine box before my boys are twelve. Especially when Jim looks at you the way he used to look at George."

There's so much hurt and agony in her voice, Chris just wants to hold her and never let go. But she's right. Even if he could find peace in the idea of having a family life with Winona, eventually the itch to return to the life he created would become too much and he can't put this family through losing someone again.

He turns Winona to face him, wiping away the tear rolling down her cheek before placing a chaste kiss on her forehead. "I'll leave in the morning."


	2. Chapter 2

Chris still keeps in touch through letters. He can't walk away completely but staying is just going to make things harder for everyone. It only takes a couple of months before Winona gets over her anger and replies. He devotes half his wages to sending to the Kirk's, and Winona's letters detail exactly what good his money does and how the boys are doing. She writes of Sam stepping up and becoming the man of the house and the trouble Jim inevitably gives her; how much his being like George breaks her heart a little more every day. They both know where that road is destined to lead.

When Winona writes him to say Jim has left the farm to find his own way, it takes Chris all of two weeks to track the boy down. It breaks his heart to see the life Jim is trying to carve out for himself but he stops himself from dragging Jim home kicking and screaming. Jim has an impossible shadow to live in, one even Chris didn't want to step into, and Jim can't escape it at all. He decides to let Jim try and forge his own path; writing Winona to tell her Jim's alright and he'll keep an eye out for him. Jim doesn't always make it easy, but Chris manages to pull strings when he needs to.

* * *

Chris isn't surprised when the Sheriff confirms who he has in the jail cell; disappointed, maybe, but not surprised. It's far from the promising life the Kirk's had envisioned for their youngest and the complete opposite of everything George stood for but he supposes that's the point. If Jim can't surpass the shadow of a legend then he's going to do a one-eighty and excel at being the exact opposite so there is no comparison to make. If only the kid knew just how George Kirk that move was. Still, he can't let George's little boy throw his life away out of youthful stubbornness, not when the future is still for bright and promising. Jim's clearly going to need a more hands on approach.

Chris rolls his eyes as he steps into the Sheriff's office and hears the enthusiastic moans of a young lady that's probably more in love with danger than the young man in the cell and any satisfaction he can bring her. He has to give Jim props for being brave enough to seduce the sheriff's daughter, deflowering her in public, and a cell no less, where he has nowhere to run; but he absolutely cannot abide stupidity. And if there's one thing James Kirk isn't, it's stupid.

Since it looks like Jim has no interest in stopping, even with and audience, Chris clears his throat and asks, "Aren't you in enough trouble already?"

The girl gasps going rigid in Jim's arms before frantically trying to set her dress to rights. Jim makes an exaggerated look of disappointment as she flees the cell, too red in the face to even look at Chris. Kirk takes in the uninvited guest out of the corner of his eye before shifting to sit properly on his cot. He sits perfectly still and tries to look uninterested as he greets the man standing on the right side of the bars. "Well, if it isn't Lieutenant Pike."

Chris ignores the tone and attitude being thrown at him. Cocky has always been Jim's first line of defense, but Pike's seen what lies beneath. He's seen those blue eyes full of tears and a trembling lip that refused to hold back the earth shattering sorrow that embraced Jim at a young age. "Actually, it's Captain now," corrects Pike, pulling up a chair.

Jim rolls his eyes and slumps back against the wall.

"You know I couldn't believe it when the Sheriff told me your name, that _you_ landed yourself in here," starts Christopher conversationally. The truth is he can believe it. He might not have been standing in front of the kid to protect him from every punch thrown in his direction, because let's face it, the kid had some of them coming, but he's always taken his promise to protect George's children seriously. He's more than familiar with Jim's rap sheet, probably more so than Jim himself. Part of protecting Jim means not putting up with Jim's crap or letting him skate by.

"And who am I _Captain_ Pike?" interrupts Jim, irritation coloring his voice. He likes to conduct his sinning without the damning sermon after.

"Your father's son." The answers so simple but cuts so deep. Jim's been running from it for so long; it's not a pressure he can live up to. He doesn't even know if he wants to try. Besides, being as self righteous as George Kirk doesn't seem like it would be all that fun.

A fond look passes over Pike's face. "You know what I loved about your father? He didn't believe in no win scenarios."

Jim lets out a long huff before muttering, "Sure learned his lesson."

Pike shrugs nonchalantly. It's a lesson none of them should have had to learn. "Well that depends on how you define winning. You're alive aren't you?" Jim turns his head, suddenly fascinated with the wall. Christopher opts to change tactic. "You like being the only genius level repeat offender in the Midwest

"Maybe I love it," Jim counters, tacking on his devil may care smile for effect.

"Maybe," emphasises Pike, "you were meant for something special."

Jim frowns. "What? Join the army like you? You must be low on your quota if you want someone like me to join."

"I saw your handiwork in the saloon. Saloon brawls and stealing cattle are a waste of your talent." Even a week later, the saloon still looks like a war broke out in it. Jim's alleged crimes are lengthy and varied. The ones the Sheriff in this town can actually pin on Kirk are cattle rustling and assault, though the Sheriff isn't terribly upset with who Jim had beaten to a pulp more at the damage to his town.

"I didn't start the fight. The guy came looking for me," retorts Jim. He's never disputed the facts just the cause.

"Because you stole his cattle," counters Pike. Jim's malicious streak is confined to himself; those that get swept up in it usually have it coming. The kid's probably simultaneously the biggest jackass and most generous honorable person he's ever met.

Jim explodes, rising to his feet to pace in front of the cell bars. "He stole them first!"

Pike looks at Jim with disbelief. He's already pieced together the story, he just wants to hear it from Jim's own mouth, figure out if the kid even knows what drives him despite trying to bury the impulse under the same six feet of dirt as his father.

"The guy is leasing land to new settlers. He waits until they get established and raises the rent beyond what they can afford before first harvest or slaughter. When they can't pay, he takes the livestock leaving the families without any means to make money or even feed themselves. I gave the cattle back to their rightful owners."

Pike smiles like Jim just proved his point. "That's why you should join. We restore law to the land and make it safe for civilized people to live their lives out here. You can make sure another Nero doesn't destroy someone else's life." It's a low blow, but the point stands. Jim has the potential to help a lot of people but first Chris has to save him from himself.

Kirk flops back on his cot looking like a wounded animal. Defeat laces his voice when he asks, "We done?"

Pike nods and gets up from his chair. He stops at the door but doesn't turn to look at Jim. "Your father was the Sheriff in Federation City for over a year and a deputy for nearly five. In that time he protected that town from tyranny and the evils of the world. Most of that town owes their lives to your father. I dare you to do better with your life."

In the morning the Sheriff comes to Pike's room in the hotel and tells him the prisoner is requesting to speak with him. Chris feels better knowing Jim will be within arm's reach for awhile. After he sweet talks the sheriff into letting Jim go as Chris's recruit and they're on the trail, he'll write Winona and let her know.

* * *

Chris is enjoying a glass of some old whisky from back east when a fight breaks out in the saloon. His first instinct is to ignore it; he's her about a girl, one whose gift with languages could make his life and that of his regiment's far easier as they travel these lawless and wild lands. If he gets side tracked with this, he could miss her again.

There's something about the kid in the middle of the fight. He has no real fight training and is losing but there's a determination and spirit behind the anger driving his punches that with a little attention could turn into something useful. Chris has seen him around town and in a few other trail stops for that matter. The Asian kid is a diamond in the rough but given the climate of people's bigotry he's never going to be polished without a little assistance. Pike swallows down his drink and reconciles with the idea of taking in another stray.

He grabs the kid by the shoulder and pulls him off the asshole who started the whole ruckus with his small mindedness and hatred of something so superficial as skin color. The kid turns his energy towards Pike but the captain isn't some dimwitted drunk in a saloon. After defecting a couple of wild swings, Chris has the kid in a headlock as he escorts him out of the saloon and into the empty street. He tosses the kid in the water trough with the warning to, "take a minute and cool off."

Sulu comes up coughing and sputtering, the cold water a complete shock to the system but does serve to calm him down and reduce his rage to a well aimed simmer. He kicks the side of the trough but gains nothing but causing a wave motion to wash back on him, splashing and filling his mouth with the dirty water.

Ah the petulance of youth, thinks Chris as he tries not to laugh. Jim has the same self-destructive temper. "You about done?"

Sulu glares at the soldier that's looking at him expectantly. "Yeah," he snarls.

Chris offers his hand to help the kid out of the trough, which he begrudgingly accepts.

As Sulu attempts to wring out his shirt, he asks, "The army got a vested interest in saloon brawls now?"

Chris smiles. It's like talking to a younger Jim Kirk with a smaller chip on his shoulder. "No. But I might have a vested interest in you."

"Why's that?"asks Sulu, all attitude.

"I've been watching you for a couple of days..." states Pike. It's not entirely a lie, Sulu did catch his eye when he arrived in town, even if it's not the reason Chris is here, but playing on a potential recruit's ego never hurts.

"If you need someone to shine your shoes for you, you're barking up the wrong tree. I'm no one's personal servant."

"Wasn't looking for one," counters Chris. Dealing with troubled youth is often like bashing his head against a post but the rewards of the challenge are usually worth it. "I'm Captain Christopher Pike and the army might just be what you're looking for."

Sulu snorts. "I don't exactly fit the army's idea of a recruit, Captain Pike."

Pike tips his head in agreement. His superiors aren't going to like this anymore than they liked Jim but he'll have a little time to get them to warm up to the idea this time since Sulu is clearly too young to join yet. "Maybe not, but you fit mine."

"How so?"

"You don't back down, even if you're not sure you can win. You're not a blacksmith by trade but you picked up enough to be competent pretty quickly. Enough raw talent that you could be trained to be a decent soldier. And I've seen you with the horses; you have a way with animals. Having a dependable horse to ride into battle with is important." Sulu's about to walk away when Pike adds, "You know how to use that sword you carry around in your sac?"

Sulu stops. "I know enough," he lies, all defensive and irritated.

"I could set you up with someone that knows how to use it. Roof over your head, steady work training horses for my regiment and training until your old enough to join," offers Chris with the most sincere look. "Join and you could have something worth fighting for that'll make a difference in people's live instead of trying to satisfy that chip on your shoulder."

"Why do you care?"

"Under the brooding and bar fights I see someone looking for something better, a chance to be better. The whole world is lying ahead of you; you just have to go about another way of getting there. What have you got to lose?"

Reluctantly, Sulu agrees and after getting a goodnight sleep at the local boarding house they ride out of town together. Chris might not have gotten to give his recruitment speech to Uhura but at least his trip wasn't a complete waste. He'll take Sulu out to a friend's homestead to train, study and work for his keep. Jack owes him a favor or two anyways and he's the only one Chris knows that's really any good with a sword beyond hacking away at people on the battle field. In a couple years time, he just might have a useful officer out of this arrangement. He's seemed to developed a soft spot for hard luck stories

* * *

It's a few months later that he catches up to the legendary Uhura. She's storming towards the local saloon looking every inch pissed off vengeance. "I hear you have a very unique and unparalleled skill set," calls Chris, halting her march into the saloon.

Uhura gives him a dirty look. "You can't afford me," she sneers. "More importantly, you wouldn't know what to do with a woman like me."

"I'm not interested in hiring you for that," insists Chris, though given the hour and loitering in the shadows, he can see how she jumped to that conclusion.

"And just what would you need me for..." She lets it hang in the air because no matter what the man's looking for manners are always important.

"Captain Pike," offers Chris. "And I hear that when it comes to speaking languages, there's no one better."

"That's true," agrees Uhura triumphantly. Flattery is always a good start but she has no vendetta against the captain and there for no time to waste on him.

"The army could use that to help negotiations and relations with the local tribes."

"The army doesn't negotiate, they slaughter the tribes that refuse to leave," she counters, because as far as she's concerned lies are a horrible way to start a business deal. Unlike most settlers, she's heard the other side of the story straight out of the tribes' mouths.

"Maybe if we had someone that spoke the language that would happen less." Chris tosses her a purse of money to show just how sincere he is in the offer. He knows mistakes have been made but he hopes they can do better and Uhura could be a key piece in that puzzle.

Uhura counts the coins. Captain Pike seems sincere in what he wants but she's seen firsthand too many times that the easiest solution as far as the army is concerned is to annihilate anyone who doesn't share their view of the new world. She has enough blood on her hands by her own doing, she doesn't need to add more on someone else's behalf. "I don't work for murders."

"We're not..."

"You are. It doesn't matter what your sales pitch, my answer is no. Now if you'll excuse me, I have a pressing matter to attend to."

He lets her walk away. It isn't the answer he's looking for but Uhura doesn't seem like the type to press into anything. He'll find away to get her on his cause, he just has to find a better opening.

* * *

Lieutenant Kirk speeds up, he's almost within distance to grab the little vagrant when the thief launches himself off the hitching post and onto the roof. Jim's about to follow suit when Pike grabs him by the arm, stopping his accent.

Pike leans close, and calmly says, "Let him go." Chris doesn't have the patience to watch Jim chase a street kid.

"But he stole my watch," protests Kirk, pulling back and following the thief with his eyes.

"He needs it more than you," suggest Pike. The kid looks like he could use a good meal and Pike doesn't have time to chase Jim all over the place for something as trivial as a pocket watch, which really, Jim should have been able to hang on to. If the is kid is good enough to relieve Jim of his possessions, then the kids has earned it and Jim gets a valuable lesson in paying attention. Really Chris should offer to buy the kid a meal for getting one over on Kirk, who could stand a little humility every now and then.

He makes a mental note to keep an eye out and an ear open for information on the street kid. He's a little young right now but his skills are sharp; definitely someone Chris could use in his regiment after he irons out some of the kid's wrinkles.

"Come on, I have a possible recruit I want to look at," urges Chris as he heads towards the sheriff's office. People either brave or dumb enough to be explosives experts are hard to come by and Chris isn't going to be too picky about where he finds one. Besides he pulled Kirk out of a jail cell and that's worked out so far... for the most part anyways; Pike tries not to notice the extra grey setting in around the edges of his hair since Jim started riding with him.

* * *

Chris has Jim wait outside while he goes in to assess and possible give his sales pitch to one Montgomery Scott whose skills are at present languishing in a cell for something regarding a drunken display of his explosives brilliance. The sheriff isn't thrilled about Scott's potential free pass out of jail but like most law enforcement officials, the prospect of getting someone like Scott out of their hair is too tempting to deny Pike's request. He grabs the tray of food the sheriff left on his desk for the prisoner and heads to the cells in the back.

"What have you brought me today?" comes a Scottish voice, as the man swings his feet over the side of the cot to sit up to look at what he supposes in the deputy bringing his food. "You're not the deputy," he says bewildered at the stranger holding his dinner tray. He eyes him carefully taking in every inch of the stranger.

Pike puts the tray down on the desk and pulls the chair close to the cell. Both parties manage to avoid eye contact as they assess one another. He's read the reports about Scott but like most men, he more than the sum of his rap sheet.

"What's for dinner," Scotty asks nervously, rubbing his hands up and down his thighs.

The Captain reaches over and lifts the lid off the tray and examines the contents. "Looks like some sort of stew," he says casually. Chris is exceptionally good at poker, learning more about a person in what they say and do at the card table than the cards they play. He needs to be sure about taking Scott on. The higher ups aren't thrilled about Chris's less than orthodox recruits and one slip by any of them will have their newest acquisition back in a jail cell and Kirk and Sulu out of Chris's protective reach and at the mercy of an army that didn't want either to start with.

"Well how bout it then?" Scotty motions towards the tray of food. Much to his dismay the Captain sets the lid down and turns his focus back to Scotty. The man's easygoingness does nothing to soothe the engineer's unease and suspicion.

"That was an interesting little stunt you pulled." It was reckless and stupid and something Chris himself won't tolerate but it's still one hell of an audition.

"It was no wee stunt," snaps Scotty, feathers clearly ruffled. "Way I hear it they're pullin gold outta that hole as we speak." It's bad enough he has to suffer this indignity, he won't have his work impugned. Some people just refuse to acknowledge brilliance.

"I've asked around about you," continues the Captain undeterred by the hostility radiating off of the prisoner.

Scotty sneers. "All good things, I'm sure."

"You're a brilliant engineer." It's the truth, though he did have to dig through the condemnation people seemed to pile on when he asked about Scotty. It seems the last few towns the Scotsman staggered through thought little of the man, but respected his talent.

Scotty sits up a little straighter, a little more intrigued. "Go on."

"I could use someone with your skills. If you're willing to join, I can get you out of here, today." The deal's already in place all that remains is whether or not Chris puts the key in the lock and opens the cell door. If he wants to keep his reputation as a miracle worker in the eyes of his recruits, it doesn't hurt for them to think Chris put himself out, getting them out trouble.

"What? Me join the army? I don't bloody think so." He crosses his arms for good measure.

The Captain shrugs as though it makes no difference in his day. "Suit yourself. If you'd prefer to languish here instead of putting your talents to use I can find someone else to certify ordnance and fix things." He gets up and straightens his jacket. "Enjoy your stay here," he bids before making his way to the door, the tray of food still sitting out of reach on the sheriff's desk.

"Wait!" Scott calls out, his stomach rumbling. "Are you gonna have food?"

The Captain stops and walks back to the cell, looking serious. "I'm sure we can find you a hot meal." There are worse reasons to join than food and shelter. He takes the key off the desk and unlocks the cell door setting Scotty free. "Captain Christopher Pike of the twelfth regiment." He offers his hand to Scotty and they share a firm handshake. "Welcome to the army."

Scotty follows Pike outside where Kirk is waiting on a horse. As usual Jim is paying more attention to the girls trying to draw future clients into the brothel than the pair walking out of the Sheriff's office. Clearly Jim's lesson in humility from the street kid stealing his watch didn't stick as much as Chris had hoped.

Pike takes the reins for his horse that Kirk is holding and climbs up. "This is Lieutenant Kirk," he says pulling the kid's attention to the matter at hand. "He'll see to it you get a good meal, a comfortable sleep and a uniform in the morning before bringing you to camp." Pike has things like shelter and food to offer recruits down on their luck but Kirk can sell the advantages of a second chance far better than Chris can. No doubt there will be a few fires to put out tomorrow, literal and figurative ones knowing these two, but if he can shape Scott into a half way decent officer, it will be worth it.

The Lieutenant on the horse nods. "Yes sir."

"Kirk," warns Pike, leaning over to make sure the Lieutenant hears him and subsequently Scotty through the less than subtle tone, "don't make me have to come back here in the morning to bail you two out of jail." He spurs his horse onward taking the road out of town towards the army camp. The army doesn't stay in town, preferring to erect their own base camps to keep the men from running amuck in town. Pike doesn't have to look back to know those two will get on like a house on fire.

* * *

Chris leans against the post and watches the street. He's been subtly watching the kid for a few days now and has to admit his sleight of hand is damn near perfect but habits and routines are going to be his downfall. He waits patiently as the kid tries to give his pursuers the slip and makes his way towards Chris's position.

The kid is so busy looking over his shoulder he doesn't notice Pike until he's got the kid by the wrist. "I've seen this trick before," says the captain as he pulls Pavel away from the post.

"Nyet, let go," snaps Pavel, as he struggles to break free.

It's been a year but it's clear by the look on the kid's face he hasn't forgotten Pike and the fact that he let him escape with the Kirk's watch last time. Chris pushes Pavel against the wall and reaches into each of his pockets, searching until he comes up with the roll of dollar bills he stole from the two men that were chasing him.

The captain looks at the boy's ill-gotten gains and shakes his head. It's an impressive score but someone with the kid's abilities should be able to make a living through more honest means. Someone that knows this land and how to navigate it as well as Chekov would be an asset to many companies but his age and fragile handle on English limits his opportunities. His grip is firm but not cruel, so the kid can't break away not matter how much he struggles to do so.

The rightful owners of the cash storm towards the pair. Their rage is clear even if their rants are mumbled and lost under thick accent. Their words might not be clear but their intent is.

"Here," says Chris, tossing the roll to the two men without taking his eyes off of the boy.

"Little thief! I'll teach you to steal from me," yells one of the men raising his fist to drive it hard at Pavel's head.

Pavel clenches his eyes shut and braces himself for the blow but it doesn't come.

"He's not your problem anymore," warns the captain, "he's mine." Chris is all for punishment but the punishment should fit the crime and what these men want to do is far too extreme for a kid just trying his best to survive. Besides, it won't do to have his newest recruit bleeding and broken before he can be of any value to Pike.

"But," starts the other man.

"No but. Walk away before we have a problem." The captain turns his hip slightly so the sun casts a glint off of his side arm. Looking disappointed, the men walk away mumbling threats of what Pavel can expect as soon as his bodyguard disappears.

"Let's go get a drink, son," says Chris, trying to relieve some of the anxiety rippling off of the kid. Of course it's anything but a request as he drags the kid along by the arm.

They take a seat at a table in the back but Chris refuses to let the bartender serve Chekov anything with alcohol. The kid might be on his own trying to survive in a grown up world but Pike isn't going to be party to the corruption of such a young soul. They sit there in awkward silence until the bartender brings their drinks.

"I think there are better uses for your talents than petty theft, don't you?" asks Chris, breaking the silence.

Pavel shrugs his shoulder.

"What's your name, son?" When he doesn't answer, Chris adds, "You do have a name don't you?

Chekov bites his lip and weighs his options. "It's Chekov, Pavel Andreievich."

"Well, Chekov, Pavel Andreievich, I'm Captain Christopher Pike and I've heard tales of an amazing scout out this way, young, but amazing. I was thinking of offering him a job to work for me. It means traveling with the army but that also includes shelter and daily meals. It means not having to steal anymore, which would be expressly forbidden. You wouldn't know where I could find him?"

Pavel takes a minute to think it over. "I will be your scout, Captain."

Chekov is by far the youngest unorthodox find he's made and while his skills are unparallel, he can't in good conscious let the kid join or forge any paper work to make him old enough to join. He can't let the kid wander the streets until he is old enough either, so against better judgment, that means the kid will just have to tag along. Chris will do his best to keep Chekov away from the blood and death aspects of the army and keep him safe until such time as the boy can decide for himself if he wants to don the regiment's uniform. Until then, this is the best option for the kid.

* * *

Chris is more than aware Jim has banded together all of his usual recruits. He also isn't bind to what they get up to at Kirk's direction. While Scotty and Sulu are old enough to know better, it's Chekov he's most concerned about in this mix. Jim won't intentionally put the kid in danger but Jim sometimes has a hard time keeping himself out of trouble let alone making sure someone who looks at him like the big brother that hung the moon is out of the thick of it.

It's a sad reality that Pavel will need the skills Kirk, Scotty and Sulu have all learned at entirely too young an age, so he tends to look the other way and make sure none of them fall too hard or too fast. They're all too young to be this hardened by life in his opinion.

He has that uneasy feeling in his gut at the prospect of sending Kirk out into the world on his own and imagines it's the same feeling Winona had when she watched him walk down the trail from the farm and from her to live life out from under his father's sacrifice. This isn't his little bird about to take flight, but George's, though Chris will never forgive himself if something happens to Jim. The other side of the coin is Chris can't be the one to stifle Jim either and has to give the kid every opportunity to grow and experience all that's offered.

The negotiations with the Vulcans is a once in a lifetime opportunity to see diplomacy in action and Kirk could stand to see something other than brute force out of the army. Jim has the potential to be a great leader if Chris can just round him out and file down some of the suborn edges.

He calls Jim to his tent to deliver the news about his change in assignment and is pleased to see the kid taking it seriously. He agrees to let him take Scotty because the two might get into trouble on a regular basis, they also manage to keep the other out of trouble just as much. He denies him Chekov though. Jim will have too much to do to babysit and leaving Pavel at the mercy of another regiment would be akin to throwing the boy in a wolf den to fend for himself. Chris tries not to think of it as not being ready to have all the children leave home yet.

Pike watches quietly from just outside his tent as Kirk gives his father's gun to Chekov to hold until his return and feels nothing but pride at the man Jim's shaping up to be. He's sure Winona will be just as proud when he writes her and tells her of just what a fine upstanding officer her son is growing into and he knows George would be proud too.

Camp is quiet without Jim around. It's a peacefulness that starts out as a blessing but quickly turns to wearing on Chris's nerves. Having no fires to put out leaves him with a lot of time on his hands and with no pet projects in the works, he finds he doesn't know what to do with himself.

Somewhere in all the boring it seems Sulu and Chekov have fortified some sort of friendship. It's a good pairing, Chekov needing a big brother and Sulu finding someone to act as a little brother in the absence of his thirteen siblings. They're a less destructive duo than Kirk and Scotty so Pike tries not to worry too much about them.

The quiet doesn't last as long as Chris would like. It's a case of say the devil's name and he shall appear because as soon as he acknowledges the quiet it's broken as a rider comes in to camp like fire is licking his heals. Pike knows in an instant trouble is on the horizon. Perhaps he shouldn't have let Jim spread his wings after all.

It takes everything he has to sit quietly and listen to the charges and accusations against Jim, from the complete and utter breakdown of negotiations with the Vulcans. He can't argue that he can't imagine Jim doing it, he can; the boy's been raising hell since he learned how to walk, however he can't believe Jim would do it without a damn good reason.

The charge of treason comes with one sentence and it turns Chris's stomach to think about Jim hanging. He wasn't there to spare George from the end of a rope but he's going to be damned if he can't protect that little boy from his father's fate. The army just doesn't know they type of blood that runs through Jim's veins.

For the first time Chris ignores orders in favor of his own agenda and orders his men to march towards Talos. Time is against him but he has to get there, has to offer some defense to make everyone understand Jim isn't the enemy; something far fowler must be at play. Once the tribunal sentences Jim, execution will follow swiftly. Chris has to, he needs to, get there in time to change their minds and pull Kirk from the fire once more. He would rather offer up his own life than half to write Winona and try to explain what horror has befallen her baby boy. There has to be some valid reason and argument he can give for Jim's actions that can redeem him to the brass and poke holes through what sounds like an air tight case. Leave it to Jim, he never does anything half way.

* * *

They're too late when they arrive at the fort. It's a warzone and Jim and apparently his new Vulcan friends are long gone. It's a relief and a blow. Jim's alive but whatever the kid has gotten himself tangled up in is going to be impossible for Pike to sweet talk his way out of. The noose is getting tighter and tighter around both their necks.

He orders his men to help with the repair efforts at the fort while he does some serious investigating of his own into what exactly happened at Vulcan. Things aren't adding up and it's not just the uncharacteristic moves by Jim. Scotty is nowhere to be seen and no one has seen him since he was brought in for questioning about the explosives used during the uprising. Chris now has two officers to find, but he has to keep up appearances of being the perfect officer and maintaining their agenda or be shut out completely.

It's mostly whispers about what people saw or heard leading up to the uprising but it's painting a pretty bad picture and leaving Chris's gut full of doubt about just what he's dedicated his life to. He's not blind to the mistakes that have happened in the past but there has always been a spirit of aim to do better next time. Now the sent is growing foul and it pains him to think how much of his life he's devoted to the cause, how much of George's life was devoted to it too. It's the third day of being stonewalled by his commanders and Chris leaves the meeting in a huff. Even if the army stands by its decision to hang Kirk, someone has to bring the kid in and there's no reason Chris can see that it can't be him; it won't be Pike's intention to bring Jim back for army justice but the army doesn't know that.

It's Sulu that braves his scowl and asks, "Is there any news?"

Pike stops by his two soldiers, deflating slightly. He's not the only one concerned. "Kirk's wanted for treason. When captured, he's to be brought before a military court and hung. They seem unwilling to entertain any alternate views about what happened with the Vulcans."

"Is there anything we can do to help him?" questions Chekov.

"The army's not going to help Jim and they're certainly not going to let me help him by finding the truth." Pike looks forlorn and a little lost, like this is the fork in the road and he only has one chance to choose a path and forever live with the consequences. He's worked hard for his career, sacrificing everything for it. Helping Jim means losing everything he has. Pike realizes it's not even a decision. There is nothing to think about. "So I'm going to have to help Jim without army approval."

Normally it's not something he would advertise but Sulu and Chekov need to know he won't be available to be in their corner anymore. He can hide his true intentions for a while but eventually the army is going to figure out he's using his rank and their resources to clear Kirk's name or find him and put him well out of the army's reach. When they do figure it out, the best scenario will be he loses his rank and privilege in a dishonorable discharge. The more likely scenario is Pike spends some serious time behind bars. When that time comes, Sulu and Chekov are going to be on their own in this army. They've suffered enough hardships in life, the least Chris can do is give them fair warning of the coming one.

Sulu stands up tall and proud. "You can count me in, Sir."

He wasn't looking for volunteers and certainly isn't keen on dragging anyone else through the oncoming fire with him. "I can't ask you to do that Sulu. You have a promising career here, you shouldn't throw that away," counters Chris.

"With all due respect, Sir, that's bullshit. The only reason I'm here is because of you and the only one that gives me a fair shot is Kirk. He'd do it for anyone else, so it's the least I can do," proclaims Sulu.

Pavel chews on his bottom lip. Pulling out Jim's gun from his coat pocket he admires it as the sun glistens off the well polished metal. "I must give this back to Lieutenant Kirk personally," he declares, throwing his lot in with Pike and Sulu.

Chris is overcome with a sense of pride. He'd bask in it but he has a mission to get under way.

* * *

Chris steps in the smoke filled saloon and glances around at the packed house. He's been chasing Jim's trail for days but the kid's as elusive as a ghost. He can only hope the army is having as much trouble at pinning Kirk down as he is. The best chance he can give is to run interference between the two sides and give Jim and company a chance to put more distance between them. Running scared doesn't leave room for effective planning so any advantage he can give Kirk is a chance he has to take.

His sales pitch wasn't well received by Uhura before but circumstances are different now; maybe hers are too. He isn't here to sell the army's cause this time, but a more righteous one. He pushes his way past the drunks to the table in the back.

Chris reaches into his pocket and grabs a handful of coins in the hopes of buying her services and sits down across from her. The clink of several coins hitting the table startles her out of her reverie.

Her hand falls on top of the pile of coins as she slides them back across the table. "I don't work for the army. Massacring tribes and tricking them into giving up their land isn't really my thing." Her face is impassive but her voice is direct and clear.

Chris has to admire her moral stance especially when he knows it isn't easy for her to make decent money. "I'm not so sure I work for the army anymore either," replies Pike, sliding the coins back towards Nyota. He has enough clout and friends that if he turned back now he could ingratiate himself back into the army and continue with the life he thought he wanted. It would mean leaving Jim out in the cold and while the army might over look Chris's trespass, they won't over look that of those who chose to follow him in helping Kirk. He can't grab onto safety at the expense of his men or his friends, but the underlying drive is the thought of abandoning that tearful six year old that couldn't bear to let go of his hand for a week after the funeral.

"I thought you were their poster child, Captain Pike. What happened?"

Pike shrugs. The army had become his whole life, the constant he could count on when everything else was in chaos. It had given him a purpose and direction but most importantly something he could get behind. Now that their objectives no longer align he's not sure how sad he is to see his place there come to an end. It's not what he signed up for as a young adventurous and optimistic kid determined to not let his best friend go it alone anymore. "We're having a disagreement. But that's not why I'm here."

"Why are you here?" asks Uhura.

"I know you've had experience with Jim Kirk before," starts Pike, ignoring the eye roll at the kid's name. Jim has a reputation, which often precedes him, that seems to evoke the same reaction out of people.

"This isn't a good way to start a conversation, especially if you want something from me."

"He's in trouble," he continues. Chris doesn't know exactly what Jim's done to run afoul of Uhura but he's counting on her bleeding heart for a cause that she buries deep down to trump whatever bonehead thing Jim's done to piss her off and earn her wrath.

"There's a surprise."

"He tried to stop the massacre at Vulcan but the army isn't viewing it that way. I think he might come to you for help." Chris wagers that if he can't convince her to help Kirk because he's actually the victim here, her soft spot for the indigenous people's plight might be enough bait to get her to bite.

Her opinion of Kirk isn't the highest, and the kid definitely has a few things coming his way but trying to save a whole tribe of people shouldn't be one of those things. Despite the swagger, cockiness and brashness, Kirk is oddly capable of helping those who need it. "I doubt Kirk's dumb enough to come to me for help. And what could I possibly help him with?"

"I think he's desperate enough to take help from anyone right now. And you can get him through the valley the fastest with your connections to the tribes there. That kind of help can get him out of the clutches of his pursuers." Pike points to the stack of coins. "That's payment for you to consider providing your services should he show up here."

"Consideration? That's it? What if I decide no?"

He's pretty confident he knows which side of honor Uhura sits even if she's spent the last few years taking the law into her own hands. "Then he'll have to find another way through and you'll have to live with letting a good man suffer when you could have helped. Hear him out, that's all I ask." Pike excuses himself from the table and leaves, feeling mostly confident he's secured a helping hand for Kirk.

* * *

The line's been drawn in the sand and Chris finds himself on the opposite side of the army he dedicated his life to. He's finally caught up with Jim and his gang but doesn't have a clear picture what they're future is going to look like now. Answers about exactly what happened are within his reach and even if Jim says everything happened just like the official story the army gave Chris is true, he'll stand by the kid anyways. There's something about Kirk's that makes him want to put it all on the line.

"Hold it right there," orders Jim leveling his gun at Chris's head as it comes into view. The click of the hammer sliding back drives his point home; he has no compunction about using the gun. Pike raises his hands in surrender slowly turning around to get a good look at Kirk.

"Jim," he nods in acknowledgement. It wasn't the warm greeting he had been expecting but given the circumstances it's better than being shot on sight. He can't blame Jim for his caution given that the army he trusted has betrayed him, it's not out of the realm of possibility that Pike would do it too. He's actually kind of proud of the apprehension Jim's using instead of jumping blindly into them. "You really stepped in it this time kid." Trouble and Jim have always seemed to go hand in hand, so he can't say he's surprised to find Kirk at the center of the biggest shit storm in the last decade. There's no condemnation in his voice; a leopard can't change its spots any more than Jim can play the role of society sheep. Christopher had thought the brash and violent rebellion phase had passed in the last couple of years that he watched Jim grow into a fine upstanding officer but it was apparently the calm before the storm.

There's a subtle rustling sound coming from the other side of the stair case and Pike turns his head. "Spock," he greets as he catches sight of the Vulcan undercover of the other wall in the old rustic cabin. He's heard about the Vulcan that's been seen riding with Jim and isn't surprised Kirk's found himself an ally. Jim manages to inspire loyalty where ever he goes.

Spock's gun doesn't waver but his eyebrow arches in curiosity. "I do not believe we've been acquainted."

"You come to bring us in, _Captain_ Pike?" demands Jim, gravel in his voice, turning the attention back to himself. He looks torn about what could possibly play out here and Chris feels for the situation they're all in. The weeks of running and being dogged by every bounty hunter and lawman have taken their toll burning up any compassion Jim might have had. He's tired and running out of ideas.

"No," is Pike's simple answer. He slumps a little, going for a more casual appearance, less threatening.

Jim takes a step out of the shadows and his relative cover behind the wall, "How'd you find us?"

"Jim," sighs Pike, and it sounds a little frustrated, "there isn't anything I don't know about you." It has the virtue of being mostly true. He's been there since the beginning, when a starry-eyed George told him he's met a girl and was going to leave the army to settle down with this girl that made the moon and the stars shine. Pike had continued with his military career but he'd made a point to check in on the little family when passing through, watching it grow from two, to three, to four and then back to three. He's been the one that held a teary-eyed yet stoic six year old Jim's hand as they lowered George's coffin into the ground. He knows all Jim's haunts and _friends_ , where he runs and why. The only thing he can't accurately account for is the sheer depths of the kid's ballsy stupidity, but he isn't ever surprised by it.

Jim stands his ground and fights, so he had to still be in the area. He isn't stupid, despite the kid's best efforts to convince everyone he is, so he couldn't run anywhere obvious. That left Pike with a very narrow trail to zero in on. Winona's mother's old childhood home is far enough removed from both society and the Kirk name that unless someone was told, it's doubtful anyone would ever venture this far to look for two wanted criminals.

"What do you want?" Jim snaps, fingers tightening on the gun. If this is some friendly 'I'm your Captain and we can work this out together if you just come back and explain your side of things' conversation, he wants no part of it. This runs too deep to be talked out and Jim's not sure he wants to. He wants blood, he wants Nero's head and won't get that if he walks back into the hands of the organization that not only allied with the man but willingly put a rope around Jim's neck.

Pike nods his head towards the table, a sorry excuse for a meal, hastily interrupted lying scattered across it. "Why don't we sit down and talk about this, son." He needs Jim to calm down and listen to him, to really hear what he's going to say.

Jim scowls. "Nothing to talk about."

Pike shrugs his shoulders and cautiously takes slow measured steps toward a chair at the table. "When the army tells me my best Lieutenant incites mutiny and starts a savage uprising destroying any hope for peace with the Vulcans, I like to find out what the army did wrong."

Jim scrutinises every inch of Pike. Reluctantly, he holsters his gun and takes the chair opposite Pike. He leans back with his arms folded across his chest, hostility at the world rolling off of him in waves.

Spock takes a step further into the room but doesn't lower his weapon. Pike tries to ignore his systematic sweeping of the room for threats with his eyes. They're like spooked cattle more than trained soldiers which just emphasises the wrongness of the situation.

"I sent you on that mission because I thought seeing negotiations first hand might teach you some humility and the virtue of subtly." He picks up a hard misshapen blob that looks like it might pass for a biscuit and gives it a tentative sniff before hazarding a bit. "Imagine my surprise when I hear it all goes to hell, the formerly peaceful Vulcans have scattered to the wind after a bloody skirmish with the army and Jim Kirk is being hanged for treason, only to escape in a blaze of glory facilitated... are you ready for this part?" asks Pike looking serious.

Jim chews on his lip, looking cross and everywhere but at Pike.

"The son of the Vulcan chief." He glances at Spock but the Vulcan doesn't seem to be any more inclined to enlighten Christopher than Kirk. Pike has all the patients in the world; he can wait Kirk out if that's what it takes, because like a timid animal this won't work unless Jim comes to him. "You're going to have to trust someone some time Jim."

"We weren't there to negotiate anything," mutters Kirk. "It was a set up to kill the Vulcans and steal their land so the railway can come through. I don't know how high up the plan goes but it was sanctioned. Guess it's bad business for the world to find out we're starting the wars with the Indians so they pinned it to look like I started it when I warned the Vulcans of the impending attack. Seems Nero brokered a deal to help facilitate it. He was there and I didn't do anything. " The words come tumbling out of his mouth faster and faster. It's one thing to know the truth but he didn't know how much he needed someone to believe him until he was spewing the tale to Pike.

Christopher is quiet for a painfully long time. He's all too painfully familiar with the name Nero. It steals his breath that that name has come back to haunt them all. Things have just gone from bad to worse. Not only is there betrayal from the army but the added burn of finding out they would associate with a cowardice murderer like Nero.

Chris wants to fly apart and destroy the world for its unrelenting cruelty. He can't imagine how Jim is feeling right now. George is surely rolling over in his grave at this turn of events. Somehow, Chris has to fix this. He needs to fix it for George, who hasn't had justice yet. He needs to do it for Sam, who shouldn't know the man that murdered his father is enjoying the time George never got. He needs to do it for Winona, who he can't dare write and reveal this turn of events until he can assure her the monster is dead and her baby boy is safe. He must do this for Jim because he promised that devastated six year old it would all be alright.

This is huge, so big it could swallow them all. They need to start small; chip away at the mountain that's looming over them. "Well the first thing, is you're going to get a good night's sleep because you look like you're going to fall over, then we're going to have a decent cooked meal because this..." he gestures to the attempt at food on the plate, "is just sad." Pike uses his command voice, leaving no room for argument. "We'll work out a plan about what to do after that."

Jim nods his consent and Spock finally holsters his gun. Whatever Pike decides to do about them, it's tomorrows problem; today promises the first night of real rest since things started. Jim's too tired to turn this down.

Pike has Chekov and Sulu waiting in town. He'll ride out and get them while Jim sleeps and bring back all the makings of a good meal; Sulu is a wonder cook.

"I don't suppose you'd consider the easy way out and let me get you as far away from here as possible?" asks Chris, as he dumps Jim onto the bed. Running would be easier on the kid. He can live out the peaceful life he deserves and Chris can make good on his vow to keep the monsters at bay.

Jim shakes his head as he relaxes on the blankets. Now that he's horizontal the energy that's been keeping him going is fading fast. "Can't walk away," he mumbles tiredly, eyes already slipping shut. "Not while Nero's still out there."

A little smile creases Pike's lips. He knew the answer before he asked the question but he still had to give the kid an out. He wants nothing more than to spare what's coming for Kirk, what vengeance, revenge and survival are going to do to George and Winona's little boy. He's going to protect Jim for as long as possible and if that means waging war on the world, then that's what he'll do. But first he'll start by tucking the kid in just like he used to once do.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to everyone who read this story and/or commented, you're the best.  
> Finally, last but not least, the final member to join the gang; Next story: McCoy's One Foot in Front of the Other


End file.
